


Positional Astronomy

by glamtrashbandito (custodian)



Category: Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Hair-pulling, It's porn, M/M, Oral Sex, also josh's hair in 2019 gives a guy ideas, control freak meet perfect executor, so much porn, welcome to my shame dumpster, with emotions and stuff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-23
Updated: 2019-06-23
Packaged: 2020-05-18 09:49:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19332115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/custodian/pseuds/glamtrashbandito
Summary: The sun -- and SoCal -- are good for Josh, and Tyler can appreciate that.  Being together again after a little distance, though, is even better.





	Positional Astronomy

**Author's Note:**

> So anyway, I got distracted by Josh's hair, screamed about it in DMs to somebody, and then wrote half of this on my phone in a fit of emotional distress. 
> 
> Like one does.
> 
> Anyway, it's porn. You're welcome. Or I'm sorry. Maybe both?

Tyler makes a soft cry into the crook of Josh's neck. It's been too long, the two of them separated by half a country, but LA is good for Josh. It's like the warm and the sun fill him up, make him sweeter. Like he can feel the light buzzing out of Josh’s skin to light him up too. 

They’re on the couch, Tyler straddling him while Josh fills him up, gripping him tight as he rides, the two of them relishing the way their bodies fit together so perfectly. It’s so good, so sweet, so nearly perfect.

"More," Tyler pleads, soft and quiet. 

Josh obliges with a rougher roll of his hips, digging fingernails into Tyler's skin. The intensity sends him arching back, almost rigid while his body floods his brain with sensation. It takes a second to focus again, but when he does he can see Josh below him, grinning, and oh, he's so beautiful. So beautiful that Tyler can't help but whisper that word over and over into Josh's skin, laying kisses and little bites across that skin. 

It’s really been too long.

They’ve been taking their time tonight and it shows in how Josh’s hair -- longer, now, than when their public journey with Trench began -- sticks up in soft, messy, irresistible curls that Tyler can't help but tangle his fingers in. He runs them through, front to back before dragging his nails up the back of Josh's nape. The shudder it draws out of him is delicious. If Josh wasn't already buried inside him, it would be enough to make Tyler want to shove him against the nearest surface to rectify that.

Instead, he runs his fingers through Josh’s hair again, this time gripping on. He gives it a sharp tug, and Josh gasps, eyelids fluttering. 

"Missed being able to do that," he growls, taking control of the rhythm.

"Missed you doing it."

"Know you did." 

He shifts his weight a little, pulls a little harder so that Josh has no choice but to bare his throat for him. He leans in and sucks a mark into the still-pale skin there. "How am I still more tan than you? You live in SoCal."

"N-no idea." 

"It's kinda hot."

"Good to know." Josh thrusts up, and it's so good it has Tyler seeing stars. 

"You wanna--" Josh starts, but Tyler tightens his grip and tugs at his hair again, stealing the words from him and replacing them with a reedy whine. It's a good sound. Desperate.

"Harder?"

“Fuck yes.” 

“Language,” Tyler chides, playing gently with Josh’s hair before giving him what he wants, hard enough to make him growl and buck up hard enough that all their points of contact struggle, push vs. pull, full tension. 

It’s everything. It’s _everything._

If there was pretense between them to drop -- atypical, but there are days -- it’s gone now. Josh is his, all his, filling him up just right, gripping his hips tight enough almost to bruise. Tyler moves with him, beyond words for once, driven by their shared rhythm, grinding to meet each thrust, thighs gripping on tight as they lose themselves.

They really do keep exquisite time together.

It’s Josh who comes first, his face a mask of sacred ecstasy as will gives way to surrender, and Tyler’s attention snaps to him, rocking him through it, drawing the pleasure out of him until it’s too much. 

And then, because they are a team, Josh pushes up, shifts them, keeps hold of Tyler to lay him down as he pulls out, their mouths crashing together like a storm before Josh’s ventures further. Down, to his throat. Further. One hand already pumping Tyler’s cock while he nips at ribs and the soft edges of his belly. 

And then the hot warmth of Josh’s mouth takes him in. The firm press of callused fingers filling him again. It can’t take long. There’s nothing left to let go of. He’s already there, and Josh is with him. Making it real. Making _him_ real.

The release is… 

_It’s not an afterthought_ , he thinks as he pulls Josh back up the couch to lay beside him. To kiss him, to share their sex on their tongues. It’s a central part of the act. It’s just part of a constellation of love and trust and vision. Vision in things small and great, done not in unison but in concert. 

That word makes him laugh, every meaning colliding at once. 

“Brain came back online, huh.” 

“Shut up.” 

“Yeah, whatever.” Josh wriggles deeper into the space between the back of the couch and him, chin slotted in with Tyler’s shoulder, one arm draped over him. “We should eat something. You know. Eventually.” 

“Yeah,” Tyler says, lacing his fingers with Josh’s, then planting a soft kiss on the crown of his head. “Eventually.” 

“ _Very_ eventually.”

“Yeah.” 

For now, though, there’s just this.


End file.
